


Your Eyes

by suzannahbee123



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, cliffhanger ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzannahbee123/pseuds/suzannahbee123
Summary: Sam Wilson is a loyal man with a big heart, no wonder he bonded so easily to Steve Rogers… but he loved you first. Now, his loyalties are torn.
Relationships: Sam Wilson/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Your Eyes

The first time Sam Wilson saw you, it was your eyes that captured his attention first. At the VA, just another Thursday night, and there you were. Picking up a friend who had attended.

Friends and family of the Veterans who attended might have always been welcome, at least for before and after sessions, but they very rarely came. That’s why you stood out to him. You were there, talking quietly to your friend.

The curve of your neck, the tilt of you head, every line of you spoke of nothing but love and sympathy… and then you turned to him, and he met your eyes for the first time.

_ Stunning. _

They glowed so prettily from your face, all smiles and twinkling irises in the most beautiful shade he had ever seen. Sam Wilson had never believed in love at first sight before. He did now.

He walked over, confidence bleeding from every step. Your eyes, still pretty, still looking his way, measured him more thoroughly than any other eyes had ever seen. It took five steps for him to reach you, another to hold out his hand for you to shake.

Five steps, a handshake, and two pairs of eyes locking onto each other. That was all it took.

***

Ice cream dates, where you liked mint chocolate chip and he enjoyed Rocky Road. Dates at the diner where he would order the burger with everything and you had a BLT with extra fries. Movie dates seeing horrors and romances and comedies followed by walking and talking, hand holding and kissing. Fun dates, easy dates. Where everything and nothing was said and easy foundations were laid.

Those three words tasted sweeter than Rocky Road on Sam’s tongue, but the thrill of anticipation held him back… it was the game, the  _ hunt…  _ the desire to know, deep down, that when he told you how he felt, you wouldn’t  _ hesitate  _ to say the same back.

It took the quieter dates to say it. The ones in dimly lit rooms that smelled of fresh cooked food, deep red wine and vanilla scented candle wax. Curtains drawn against the soft rain and gloomy skies and the horns and yells of Washington muffled into pleasant background noise.

The TV whispers, some documentary on in the background, but Sam only hears the way your breath catches as he kisses along that line of your throat, that  _ one  _ spot where he can taste the pure sugar and spice of you the strongest.

You’re stunning here, lipstick kissed away, clothes rumpled and carrying the low odour of the chicken he had cooked. Lips kissed swollen and those pretty eyes hooded and dark with rising lust. Rumpled and erotically imperfect.

“I love you, baby girl,”

“I love you too Sam,”

Simple words, but his whole world shifted on its axis. The kiss turned heated, you,  _ his girl,  _ flowed into his arms. Your taste working it’s way into his very cells, the softness of your skin a symphony against his own. You  _ sang,  _ your whole body a melody that he would listen to over and over, the notes of your pleasure becoming more familiar to him than any album Marvin Gaye had released.

Sam wanted that, he needed it. Returning from war had been hard, his life had adjusted and he had felt happy… but not complete. Now?

Sam stared into your eyes, pleasure blown and holding more stars than the night sky… now he was complete. 

***

Six months and you were moving in with him. Another three and Sam was stopping at jewellery shop windows, looking at the twinkling rings that beckoned his money and promised to look better on your finger than any piece of jewellery had ever sat on a woman’s finger before. Diamonds, sapphires, rubies ... every colour of the rainbow and Sam just could  _ not  _ decide which would flatter those eyes of yours the best.

Sam thought about it, day and night. What ring? How to propose, where and when. Your anniversary? Or was that too obvious? Your birthday? Well… same problem again. His birthday?

_ That  _ idea held some appeal, you certainly wouldn’t be expecting it, and you  _ were  _ the only gift he would ever want…

It was this plan that was rudely interrupted that one morning. It started out as any other, a run at sunrise, leaving you warm and peaceful amongst the ridiculous amount of pillows and blankets you liked… and it ended with Sam talking to Steve Rogers, Captain America.

Sam didn’t know then,  _ couldn’t  _ know, but it was the beginning of the end. He was, after all, a loyal man, and Steve Rogers inspired a certain kind of loyalty.

***

A year later, and Sam was  _ definitely  _ ready to buy that ring now. You were beyond perfect, a beautiful, patient, ever smiling  _ dream.  _

When he had gone back to that base and taken back his wings? You grinned, eyes twinkling at Steve and Nat and wished him well.

When the building nearly collapsed on him? Your eyes held the very fires of  _ hell  _ as you chewed out Steve lying in his hospital bed, and then you threw chocolate chip cookie at the man, and dragged Sam back home to cry desperate tears against his shoulder.

This was what a relationship was; some fear, some secrets, and at the end… peace. And it  _ was  _ peaceful for a while. Beautiful, even.

Sam still helped look for that poor asshole that nearly killed him (your words, not his), and you still worked as an ER nurse, and things settled. A diamond and yellow citrine ring caught Sam’s eye, and promptly took a huge chunk of his savings from his account…

His birthday was soon, and he  _ wanted  _ to see the way your eyes would light up over  _ his  _ birthday cake candles when he dropped to one knee in front of you.

Why make a wish when he already had his dream come true?

Except… Tony and Sokovia happened… Steve called, New York beckoned and Sam stopped looking for the Winter Soldier as a civilian, and started again as The Falcon of The Avengers. Still covertly though,  _ not  _ that Sam liked lying to the rest of the team.

You came too, New York needed nurses.

“I love you, Sam. Just don’t forget about me whilst you’re fighting the world's worst? I need you too.”

Your eyes shone, but this time it was hard to decipher the emotions that were churning  _ right there  _ for him to see. Sam could  _ never  _ forget about you… but he couldn’t just forget all those that needed his help either.

The ring stayed in drawer… it was just safer to not give the bad guys a Mrs Wilson to target.

***

A year. Three hundred and sixty five days of perfectly strained peace. Sam travelled everywhere, never stopping long enough to contact you and unable to when there  _ was  _ time. Mission security was paramount, and  _ your  _ safety meant more than Sam could ever put into words. 

His job was dangerous, it was scary, and  _ he  _ always had to be the one who smiled and joked and got the  _ others  _ through it. It was  _ you  _ Sam could seek solace in, find comfort and safety in your arms whilst lying in your bed. Skin to skin, heart beats syncing and whispered secrets held in the shadows between you.

But Sam was never home and your eyes held far too much strain when he ever saw them. His burdens stayed with him, and you held  _ yours _ fiercely to your heart. 

The ring, perfect, beautiful and just as unique as you, burned in Sam’s drawer. The image of how you would look when he asked taunted him day and night, and the irrevocable knowledge that soon it would be too late for you to  _ want  _ to say yes churned in Sam’s gut.

He had never been a quitter, and you deserved better than what he had been giving you.

There were no missions planned, nothing urgent at the local VA that Sam volunteered at. The ring was still there and you were working until late.

A thrill of excitement went through him. It was late, long overdue, but he  _ still  _ had your heart, he knew it deep down. It was time to prove to you how much he still loved you, what you meant to him. 

Your favourite meal was prepared, Marvin Gaye queued up time play and Sam put on the white t-shirt and black jeans that you once told him “made his ass  _ pop,” _

Sam grinned smugly, when you were right, you were  _ right. _

Everything was going to be perfect.

No nerves jumped up, no hesitation or worry plagued him when the sound of your keys jangled from the other side of the apartment door. Just love, swimming idly in his veins.

Surprise laced your features when you took in the scene, and then  _ joy  _ when your pretty eyes locked onto his,

“Sam?”

“I’ve been absent, baby girl,” Sam admitted into the candle light, not once taking his eyes off of you. His sweet woman with a heart bigger than the moon, “I haven’t been the man I promised. I might be an Avenger, and hell yes I’m amazing at it-”

“Is there a point, Sam?”

You sound weary, almost bored, but he can hear that teasing note, the proof that he knows you better than simple surface words.

And your eyes hold nothing but fondness for him… such pretty eyes that hadn’t looked happy enough for so long. Sam hated how he hadn’t noticed straight away, how it had taken him to make an effort to see you smile to notice how you hardly ever did it anymore.

“Baby girl… I love you, so  _ damn _ much. I put us through  _ so _ damn much, and yeah, my job is worth doing. It’s a great and honourable thing, blah blah blah… but  _ you  _ are the reason I push myself to do it, you understand?”

Steps toward you, the air between you growing smaller and smaller until your breaths mixed together. The sweet scent of you filled his nostrils, and the perfect skin of your cheeks was back under his palms,

“I  _ love  _ you… I can’t do this without you, please, Y/N…”

The ring was in his pocket. It wasn’t his birthday, or your anniversary, and this wasn’t a five star restaurant. Come tomorrow morning, you would probably pout that you had been in your purple scrubs and green crocs and not  _ that  _ dress that hung in your closet for special occasions. But come tomorrow morning, he would’ve thoroughly loved you with every ounce of his being and with every trick that he knew… and the diamond and citrine ring would be sitting pretty on the third finger if your left hand…

A deep breath, staring into your eyes, Sam opened his mouth; “Y/N… would you-?”

_ Buzzzzzz _

His phone buzzed against the table, snapping his attention to it,  _ Steve Rogers  _ glowing bright against the screen. Sam saw you blink, could almost feel you shut down and move away, even as you stood close… but Steve wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.

“Sam? Something big is going down, we’re heading out in two hours, full briefing on the flight,”

Sam looked down at his phone, then, desperately, back up to you, “Y/N-”

“Don’t worry, Sam,” you gesture softly to the food on the side, “thank you for cooking… go and save the world, yeah? I’ll be… I guess I’ll be here, waiting for you,”

There was nothing he could say. What  _ was  _ there to say? Your eyes, the same ones he had fantasies about tearing over in joy and later, in pleasure, now sparkled with real tears, that fell heavy and wet against the purple fabric of your scrubs. 

His go bag waited for him by the door, it’s metaphorical weight making it almost impossible to lift. But he did. Sam always took the weight… this time though, you didn’t offer him your lips to kiss or your arms to hold him. You didn’t smile, and your eyes couldn’t meet his.

Sam forgot he had the ring in his pocket and he locked it in the locker for safe keeping for when they got back,

“Where are we going, Steve?”

“Lagos… shouldn’t be too complicated but… just keep your eyes open,”

Sam always did… but even he couldn’t have seen what was to come.

***

One phone call was all he was allowed, the phones were too easily traced, even burner phones weren’t safe. Not with the type of technology Tony Stark has access to.

Bitterness coated his tongue, vile and choking. Sam was free of the Raft, thanks to Steve, but now he couldn’t go home. Couldn’t see  _ you. _ It didn’t matter that the events leading up to this hadn’t been anything to do with him. It didn’t matter that Steve didn’t listen to him when he told him  _ repeatedly  _ to tell Tony what he knew about Bucky. It was irrelevant that The Accords were insane Bureaucracy gone mad. The fact that he  _ was  _ one of the good guys was not a good enough reason.

Sam  _ chose _ to do the right thing… but that wasn’t the right thing by  _ you. _

“Baby girl?”

“Sam?!” Whispered words, tears pacing every syllable, and oh how Sam wished he could  _ look  _ at you, “What the hell is happening?! I’m hearing your name,  _ Steve’s  _ name all over the radio! They say-”

“I know what they’re sayin’, but it ain’t true, you know that right?”

_ Please know… please know that I’m not the bad guy… I was only doing what was right- _

“Of  _ course  _ I know it’s not true!” Your enraged hiss sends a wave of relief through him, tidal waves have held less power than those seven words, “You only ever do what’s right, Sam. It’s what I- I-love about you… and what I hate about you too,”

The pause between them was loaded. His smart, beautiful woman, with the eyes that held more emotions that the dictionary had words for… she already knew what was coming.

Her eyes would be shining, lit up by whatever ambient lighting there was and sparkling with as many unshed tears as there were stars in the sky.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I- I don’t think I’m going to make it back for a while,”

“You’re not even trying to,”

He could almost see your rueful small smile, the way it would barely crease your cheek. He could picture all too clearly the mini eye roll you were giving him, frustration, anger and terrified love warring each other in those pretty irises.

A sigh escaped him, “You know about the Accords… what they mean for guys like me,”

“Yeah… I know… Sam?” 

Time was running out, Sam could tell you knew it as well as he did,

“Yeah, baby girl?”

“I found the ring a month ago. I would’ve said yes.”

Steve appeared in Sam’s peripheral vision, no hand motions or watch tapping, but Sam knew his time was up,

“I would’ve given you the best wedding, Y/N,”

“You have to be here for that, Sam. And you said yourself that you’ve been absent,”

Sam has been shot at, blown up, kicked off a helicarrier and had a run across a floor that was collapsing eighty odd floors in the air… none of was as devastating or hurt as much as those words… or your next;

“Don’t come back and offer me that ring until you’re really ready, Sam Wilson. I won’t come second to anything, again. I deserve better, and so do you,”

Another pause then; “Give ‘em hell, Sam. For me? For taking you away,”

The phone went dead in his hand. 

***

** _Seven years later_ **

Sam started up at the door, the steps leading to the brownstone looming higher and more imposing than Everest or Kilimanjaro.

It was seven years, even though it only felt like two, and he was back. The apartment looked as familiar and unrecognisable as everything else since coming back from the dead, a disconnect he hated but was unsure how to fully overcome.

You would feel the same, the Snap took you too… he could  _ feel  _ you, like an ache deep in the bones, whilst he had been… wherever it was he had been, but he had not been able to find you.

It wasn’t too surprising, half the entire universe was a lot of souls in one place, but still, Spider Blabbermouth and Winter Asshole had been at his side the whole time… but not you.

Would it be the same now? This was a very literal second chance… would you want to take it with him?

The ring, jewels dusty and metal dull, resided in his pocket… Sam was coming to you bare of everything. His soul exposed to you and your all seeing eyes.

Steve was old now, very firmly retired. Bucky was a friend, would always need support, but it was something Sam was happy to provide (no matter what he said out loud)... and the Shield was strapped to his back, for as long as the Government allowed it.

The steps were hard to walk up, but all too soon he was there, knocking.

One minute passed… nerves and trepidation stole his breath… you weren’t home, or you  _ were  _ but didn’t want to see him…

Sam didn’t know what would be worse.

Another minute, and Sam turned away. Your love was a memory he would cherish… but that was all it was. Your love, your smile, your eyes… just a memory-

“Sam?”

He turned, slipped, grabbed the railing and clanged the infernal shield against the brick, taking a chunk with it. Curses filled the air, but you remained silent… watching…

Your gaze was heavy, those eyes bright and wide with too much left unsaid. Seven years worth, technically. Well… Sam was ready to start somewhere.

“You said not to come back until I was ready, to not put you second ever again. Well, I know I look like a damn contradiction, with this Shield strapped to me like I’m ready to go to war but… this is just a symbol, baby girl. You’re real life, and I hate not living it. So…” he took the ring from his pocket and held it out to you.

Your eyes… they looked down at the ring, then back at him, and your lips twitched.

Just like that… your eyes told him everything he ever needed to know.


End file.
